


in his hands

by thedevilchicken



Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Blood Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Sibling Incest, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: An attempt is made on Uther's life. Vortigern saves it.
Relationships: Uther Pendragon/Vortigern (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	in his hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dust_motes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dust_motes/gifts).



Uther didn't have the sword to hand and Vortigern knows that's why the attempt was able to get as far as it did. Sometimes he thinks Excalibur is just as possessive of his brother as he is. They'll make a good pair one day, he thinks, when it's his and not his perfect brother's. 

Uther loves his wife, but that doesn't change the fact that it's his habit to sleep alone at night; people in the castle, possibly his lovely wife included, believe it's so he won't disturb her if he rises early or sleeps late, just as they assume of Vortigern. The sound that Vortigern heard behind the chamber door as he passed that way that night was clearly not some kind of spousal visitation and when he pushed open the door and stepped inside, he found Uther sprawled there on the floor. There was a man astride his chest and a knife pressed to his throat. It was testament to his brother's strength and his general tenacity that the would-be assassin hadn't killed him already, Vortigern supposes, given all he gave away in leverage. 

Excalibur was lying in its sheath there by the door, stretched out on a tabletop, and Vortigern reached out to it instinctively as he felt anger bubble up inside him. The assassin looked at him across the room. Uther looked at him from his place on the floor. The sword didn't glow blue when he drew it, but he could feel the power that it held inside; he had no need of its power to run the assassin through, however, with a fine spray of blood across his brother's bare skin that looked black as pitch in the moonlight. 

Uther pushed the man's dripping corpse aside and pushed himself up to his feet. He was breathless, he was naked, and a thin line of blood stood out across his throat from where the knife had pressed. He was naked, and he was bleeding over his chin and down his prickly neck from a split he had in the centre of his lower lip. And Vortigern felt the sword begin to pull against his grip, so he laid it flat across his palms and held it out for his brother to take. Uther took it from him, just like he always will while he still lives. Vortigern cast him a sharp glance then he turned away, scooped up the assassin's knife and left without a word. His own room wasn't far away along the corridor; it didn't take him long to get there and to close the door behind him, but the door didn't stay closed for long.

When Uther let himself inside, he was still stripped down to his bare skin. When Uther let himself inside, he still smelled like blood but it wasn't the assassin's. When Uther pressed his mouth to his, the split in his lip from the fight was still bleeding; when Vortigern strode in close and sucked at it, Uther let him though it must have hurt. When Vortigern pushed him down onto the bed, when he stripped himself then stroked himself then straddled him, that knife in his hand, Uther let him though it should have been far beneath his dignity.

Very slowly, Vortigern trailed the tip of the knife down the length of his own cock, the touch of it making him shiver. He ran the chilly flat of the blade across the tip and smudged the metal with the moisture there and when he brought it up to Uther's mouth, his brother's eyes were wide as he licked it clean again. He didn't even seem to care that the blade nicked his tongue, not until Vortigern leaned in and kissed him, hot and open-mouthed and tangy with the blood they shared. Then Uther pulled him down.

That night wasn't the first that Uther had visited his room and that night was not the last. Months have passed and every few weeks, he comes back; he throws his robe to the floor and he stands there naked in the candlelight with a look on is face that says he can't understand why he's there again, as if he wonders if Vortigern did this to him with some spell or some enchantment that he learned while he was with the mages. he didn't, and he's told him so; he told him, "Brother, I really didn't need to. You already wanted this." Then he wrapped the sharp hilt of the assassin's knife in thick swatch of leather and he slicked the simple hilt with oil. Uther watched him as he fucked himself with it, slowly, kneeling on the bed. Uther watched him, face and cock both flushed, until he couldn't stand it. He kissed Vortigern's mouth as if he couldn't live without it. When Vortigern set the knife aside, Uther fucked him like he couldn't live without that, either.

If he hadn't interfered, his brother would have died that night. But the truth of it is he will not permit any man to strike that blow but him.

In Vortigern's hands, Excalibur is just a sword. But in Vortigern's hands, Uther is much less a king.


End file.
